Those Who Do Not Weep
by happy45
Summary: They had followed the same routine for the last ten weeks. They never talked. They never stayed the night. Just sex, then he would leave. She wanted to take the pain away, he just wanted her. / Post 2x10 /


**Post 2x10. Emily learns to grieve for Alex.**

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 **Those Who Do Not Weep**

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They had followed the same routine for the last 10 weeks.

They would go about their business during the day, giving the illusion that they were barely even friends. Then at night, she would pack up her things, say good bye to each of her colleagues before coming to his door. She would knock on it lightly before opening it. She would tightly grip the door handle. She would gulp, and then she would say "goodnight Aaron" in a small and quiet voice. He would nod lightly before replying a simple "goodnight Emily" as she turned and left the room.

Not 20 minutes later, he would then knock on her apartment door. Once again, Emily would hold the handle tightly as she opened it. They'd take each other in for a brief moment, before Aaron stepped forward and kissed her with everything that was in him.

They never talked. They never stayed the night. Just sex, then he would leave.

She wanted to take the pain away, he just wanted her.

They don't know how it happened exactly. They had been the only two people left in the White House that Christmas day when they got the call about Alex Kirkman's accident. Emily found herself absentmindedly walking to his office, as if it was a natural instinct to seek him for comfort above anyone else. He saw she was shaken. He saw she didn't know what to do.

He drove her home and walked her to her door, to make doubly sure she got inside.

"Thanks" she mumbled to him quietly as she unlocked her front door.

"You're welcome" he mumbled just as quietly.

He turned to walk away, but Emily quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him back she looked at him for a brief moment, before stepping forward and kissing him.

"What are you doing?" Aaron whispered as their foreheads rested against each other's.

"I want to take it away. Please just—help me take it away." Emily replied as a tear ran down her cheek.

"You're vulnerable—"

"I'm sad Aaron. But I know what I want. _I want you."_

And the rest was history. The same routine for the last 10 weeks. Nobody knew but them.

They often wondered how long they could keep this up. There was only so long Emily could say it was about comfort, and there was only so long Aaron could pretend to agree with her.

It had been a Thursday night when they both noticed a shift in where they stood. They were lying beside each other in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. Aaron had been waiting for Emily to tell him to leave, but it never came. She remained more silent than ever. Like she wanted to say something but couldn't.

He decided he would make the first move, figuring she was just waiting for him to follow the normal protocol. He sat up, and immediately he heard Emily's voice in the dark.

"Why is it always the good people?" she asked.

"What?"

"Why is it always the good people that have to die?"

Aaron didn't know what to say. He didn't have the answers. He didn't know how to ease her conscience. He wished he did. But he couldn't.

Alex had been wonderful to Emily since she started working for Tom. She had been a confident, a friend—more like a sister. And now, she was gone. Tom lost his wife, Leo and Penny lost their mother—the country lost their first lady, and no one knew how to make any of it better.

"You have to wonder" Emily began "If the pain will ever end."

Aaron began to speak; "I—"

"You should go." Emily cut him off, as Aaron heard her sniff.

"Emily—"

"Just—go. Aaron. Please."

Aaron nodded before quickly getting dressed and leaving her room. Just when he thought they were getting somewhere, she shut him down. She put up her walls. She continued to let sex be the only way she would allow herself to feel.

And Aaron couldn't do it anymore.

The following night was a stormy one in Washington, and it was entirely reflective of everyone's mood in the White House. All of Kirkman's senior staff were snappy and reclusive today, so much so that Kendra insisted they all go out for a drink after work.

She took her four co-workers to a bar just outside the compact city. It was quieter than what they were used to, but busy enough, with an acoustic guitar player on a higher platform and some couples dancing around him.

It was peaceful. Serene. Just what they needed.

Seth was the first to order a round for the table. They made a rule not to talk about work, so they made conversation about anything but. Seth talked about his brother, Kendra talked about this TV show she had been watching when she had a spare minute. Lyor talked about bees.

But Aaron and Emily remained relatively silent. The occasional laugh or acknowledgement at what their colleague was saying. But they didn't add anything to the conversation.

A short while later, Aaron came back from the bathroom, and noticed Seth and Lyor had returned to the bar, while Kendra was talking to someone she knew, leaving Emily alone at the table. They hadn't spoken at all since last night. Not even about work.

Aaron had been pondering her questions all day. Why is it always the good people? When will the pain stop? He had time to think about what he would have said. He knew it would never be the perfect answer, but perhaps there was something in it she needed to her.

He took a deep breath before walking over to her and loosening his tie, throwing it down beside his jacket when he got to the table. He stood beside her and held out his hand. Emily looked at his hand, then looked at him with a confused look.

"Dance with me." He said.

Emily raised her eyebrow; "Aaron—"

"I'm not going to take no for an answer." He said with certainty as she sighed and placed her hand in his, allowing him to lead her to the open space where other couples were dancing.

She rested her other hand around his shoulder while he rested his on the small of her back, holding their clasped hands close to their chests, their faces only a breath apart.

He allowed them to be in that moment for a brief second before he spoke.

"You asked me yesterday why it's always the good people that have to die—"

"Aaron—"

"Truth is, I don't know. I wish I did but I don't and—we'll never know. Life can be cruel and unforgiving, and we won't have all the answers." Aaron replied honestly. "You also said you wondered if the pain would ever end. I don't think the pain of losing someone you love ever really goes away, but it does change. Things do get better. But in order for things to get better… you have to allow yourself to feel Emily. I know it seems like the scariest thing in the world but it's also the bravest. You have to let yourself grieve, otherwise the pain will consume you."

"So, you don't think sex is the answer then?" Emily asked, as if to say she already knew that, and it was obvious that it wasn't the answer, but she didn't want to admit it.

"No. I don't. I don't think you do either. It's a temporary solution to numb the pain… but it's not living." Aaron replied.

"What about Tom? Or Leo or Penny? They grieve everyday for Alex. When does it get better for them?"

"I have faith that—that everyone will heel eventually. They're never really going to be the same, they'll have good days and they'll have bad days but there will come a time when they think about their mother, and all they feel is her love.

"Those who do not weep, do not see. Victor Hugo, Les Misérables." Emily mumbled, understanding exactly what Aaron was saying. The quote had been ringing in her head for weeks now, but she chose not to acknowledge it.

Aaron nodded his head softly before responding; "Even the darkest night will end, and the sun will rise." He quoted from the very same book.

Emily found herself relaxing in his arms. There was something about him holding her like this that felt purposeful and real and _safe._ All of a sudden, she felt herself stiffen, and panic. She pulled away from Aaron who looked at her, concerned. She let go of his hand before making a dash out the door and into the rain.

Aaron stood for a brief second. He looked to the table and saw Seth, Lyor and Kendra all looking at him intensely, clearly wondering what they had been talking about and why Emily had dashed.

Aaron quickly ran out the door after her.

"Emily, what are you doing?!" He shouted to her over the rain.

"I don't know!" Emily shouted as she turned around, her hair sticking to her face, her arms out wide. "I don't know what I have been doing for the past ten weeks. I don't know why I am standing out here in the rain. I don't know why you _scare_ me so much!" she exclaimed shakily.

"Emily—" Aaron said softly, as the rain loosened his curls and ran down his face.

"I know it probably sounds crazy but, you and me—it wasn't just about the sex. It wasn't just about numbing the pain for a few moments. Just—just having you there, like a silent presence—it was perfect. It was so much better than empty words." She confessed. "But right now—right now that silence is deafening." Emily said through her tears.

Her breathing became heavier as for the first time in ten weeks, she let the pain rush over her like a wave. She thought ignoring the pain would make it go away. She thought ignoring it would mean she would be a better chief of staff for Kirkman as he grieved with his family.

"She was like my sister" Emily said as she sobbed.

"I know. I know." He said as he took the final few steps towards her and embraced her tightly, allowing her to cry, allowing the pain to wash over her like the rain, allowing her to take the first steps towards healing.


End file.
